


Sanctuary Beneath

by Isabelfrost



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 1700s pirate times, Anal Sex, Aziraphale and Crowley Through The Ages (Good Omens), BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), BAMF Crowley (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Experienced Crowley (Good Omens), First Time Blow Jobs, Flying Sex, Forced Exhibitionism, Hand Jobs, Historical Figures, Historical References, M/M, Pirate ship battles, Pirates, Swordfighting, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Underwater, Underwater Sex, Virgin Aziraphale (Good Omens), Walking the plank, Wing Grooming, not an AU just Crowley being a bad ass pirate during the 1700s
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:22:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22936285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isabelfrost/pseuds/Isabelfrost
Summary: Little known fact: Crowley, in the early 1700s was the Captain of the pirate ship he made named The Sea Serpent. The Sea Serpent was infamous on the waters of the Caribbean.Crowley gained notoriety by being good to his crew and no one else. He was feared to be more than just a man: Some  thought he must be a serpent himself, or a demon with glowing snake eyes that were the last thing you saw before you went to Hell.Crowley is loving his new title and form of causing chaos. His time at sea had been the most fun he’d ever had! he was just missing one thing to make it perfect - a certain foppish angel.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	1. 1717

**Author's Note:**

> This will hopefully be a fast WIP I already have most of the last half completed and some snippets of the first half. 
> 
> So here goes! I’m gonna plan to post at least one chapter a week (probably sometime during the weekend) and this fic should be complete by the end of March. 
> 
> Since I fell in love with the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie I have been a connoisseur of pirate lore and history. While Crowley was never written about in history books many of the other characters were. I have kept this as close to historically accurate as I could. The only other fictional character I am adding is Flint- because come on he’s like the most famous literary pirate ever!
> 
> I have always thought of the boys during pirate times and how perfect they would fit in (at least Crowley). So cannon wise this fic would take place in between the Globe Theatre scene and the Bastille scene. I hope you enjoy this as much I I do writing it!

The crease from the sky to the sea, a barrier, a stark line. Stark is something Crowley knows - what he’s used to. Stark is the unyielding line that separates black and white, heaven and hell. Some days when the waves die away water becomes a gleaming floor, mirroring the sky above it, only slightly deformed. Much is the way hell has captured the reflection of heaven, just bending and deforming it enough to ensure despair. A constant reminder of what used to be under foot, where home was a soft bright thing - but now a twisted mangled ruin. There is no sense of home, that’s really how they establish dejection. It could look exactly the same save for the wall of indifference, the hard edge as opposed to soft, the absence of emotion behind the place - home isn’t here. You don’t get a home anymore. You don’t deserve it. 

That’s how it was directly after the fall. Hell was a reflection off the floor. But only a reflection, void of anything real. It took time for the lights to dim and break. It took time for papers to pile up unfiled from apathy. It took time for hell to shape into the current misery it exudes today. It used to be a reflection. It was only after the fallen, in anguish from the absence of a sense of place, poured out their pain into the halls to truly paint the picture of how ugly a place expunged of the Almighty truly is. 

Crowley breathes in deep the fresh sea air and stares at the crease. Earth is a different world entirely. Here the line of delineation is not righteousness and villainous, not good and evil, but the known and unknown. Above the water, in the air they breath is a world they understand and can explore. A complex world, but one that is being watched over and guided. Below, the water is the unknown world of the deep. Some have just skimmed the surface to delve into and illuminate the dark chasm, dipping their toes in to get a peek. But no one is guiding the place behind the reflection. There are no eyes to peer and judge and punish. No one is checking up on the dolphins. No being keeping track of fish lives. Are there even rules once you crest the undersurface of this unknown? 

“Cap’n? I’d say we’re ‘bout half a day out from Port Royal. Crew is itchin’ to let off some steam and spend some plunder”

Crowley snaps out of his dark brood to eye is first mate Rouse. His black hair and sun baked skin helped the man to look rougher than what he really is. I fine buccaneer was Walter Rouse. He took to orders well but if there was a question on his lips he let it be known. Crowley respected those who questioned, he was one himself. Got him into a lot more trouble. It could have gotten Rouse into more if he were a different captain, but he wasn’t intimidated by inquiry as most. As long as his crew stayed true to him and the Sea Serpent, he welcomed questions and even debate as such. 

“Good, good. It will be a needed venture for some drinkable red”

“Ay, pray that there’s still reserves left after the influx of Navy men.”

Crowley made a face at the mention of prayer. “I’d rather not - pray that is. And where did you hear Nasau was succumbing to the Royal Navy?”

“Last time we’r’ in Tortuga Cap’n. It’s seems the governor’s tryin’ to legitimize the town. Pro’ly had one too many cutthroats strongarm ‘im. Or per’aps a lil bird told ‘im winds are changin’.” 

_Or an angel_

  
  


Aziraphale was quite pleased with himself. In the short time he’d been in the Caribbean he felt he was making an impact. He had been in talks with the governor about the state of the town and the island itself. Why he was content with having it overrun by cutthroats and low life (was he content?). How did he see his situation in 5 years? Dropping hints of the downfall of the pirate movement, Aziraphale convinced him to start having more Naval ships dock in Port Royal. They would help keep the peace and maneuver the governor into a new place of power with the trade merchants who were constantly dealing with run-ins with pirates. Though he was playing to the governor’s selfish nature instead of convincing him to rejoin the piety, the ends justified the means. Lives, virtues, and goods would be saved if the threat of piracy was squelched. 

  
  


This day in particular was rousing. He had been privy to attend a meeting where strategies were hammered out on how to deal with the piracy threat. Aziraphale was, for the most part, a silent advisor. If he influenced the discussion in other more ethereal ways, well that was just part of the assignment. One man in particular giving the angel an anxious feeling was a privateer named Johnathan Barnet. He was just a little too eager to make gruesome examples of the men they will bring in for trial. The man thought stringing corpses up along the rocks was a fine way to treat the remains of unsavory fellows. Inwardly Aziraphale balked; 

_What sort of morbid imagination this human has! No matter who these men were in the eyes of society, that is just no treatment of the dead. They had already exacted justice through the hanging. Putting their bodies on display was just . . . . abominable_. He tried not to judge, but he was not fond of this Barnet, and couldn’t wait to leave his presence. 

  
  


It happened as he was exiting the meeting with the others, lightley conversing, he felt a familiar presence and out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw a head of brilliant red hair skirt by. He did a double glance, searching the crowded street. There! Just as the red haired figure was rounding a corner, abandoning the conversation and other committee members completely, he bounded after the wave of red locks. As he found himself on the other side of the corner, he half called out half said to himself 

“Crowley?” 

He spotted The figure half a block away and was about to call out in earnest when a hand abruptly muffled his call, and then everything went black. 

  
  


Back on the Serpent

Crowley was finishing loading the procurements of the day. Quite a good haul to set sail on, plenty of salted beef, a couple of chickens to slaughter later, flour to make bread, and bushels of potatoes, carrots, plantains - no one on this crew would be labeled scurvy on his account! While most pirate crews were half starved and usually ailing of sickness caused by poor diet, the Sea Serpent’s crew dined on fresh fruit that was always perfectly ripe, and bread from flour that miraculously never saw a weevil. If the meat ran out, the crew always had good luck with fishing off the side of the bow. 

More important to Crowley, personally, than the food was the drink he acquired. For the crew there were barrels ale and 4 crates of rum to celebrate and bargain with. For the captain himself, he found several bottles of Bordeaux wines as well as a fairly new variety of red (new by Crowley’s terms) named Cabernet Sauvignon. 

Just as he was starting to reminisce about the first time he had tried a Cabernet Sauvignon, with Aziraphale of course, Rouse bellowed, jolting Crowely back to the present. 

“Cap’n! Cap’n! We have _everything_ on board.” Rouse said with a wink. “I should think with this new . . a . . . . acquisition we ‘ot to be settin’ sail?”

“Quite right. I’ll inspect our new security measure and we’ll be out to sea.”

“Ay Ay Captn’!”

Crowley put the bottle down. He needed to get his head back in the game. Earlier in the day he thought for a moment he had sensed Aziraphale, even heard him call his name. He needed to get a grip, Aziraphale was on the other side of the Atlantic! At least in his mind he could admit he had missed the angel’s company. He had grown accustomed to regularly seeing Aziraphale while they were both in London. He missed their debates and discords, how he was always able to wind the angel up with a quip or simply stalking around him. Such a jumpy thing! He laughed to himself. 

_Silly angel with his dopey smile and that sparkle in his eye . . . oh hellfire and damnation snap out of it, damn it all! You are Hell’s no. 1 temptor and right now the most feared pirate in the Caribbean! You are the fucking Serpent of Eden pull your self together demon! It’s time to terrorize a hostage. It’s no good to be daydreaming about angels when you need to feel intimidating._

He stomped off trying to muster all his frustration into fury that could be used for something constructive - like strong arming a British naval officer to act like the scared prisoner he should be. 

“All right boys let’s get this over with” Crowley announced. He sauntered below deck flanked by Rouse and an intimidating looking fellow John Howard. Howard was about an inch or two taller than Crowley and probably weighed about 3 of him- all muscle. All that muscle Crowley liked when intimidating prisoners to cooperate and forgo trying anything valient(stupid). 

  
  


He signaled for the blind to be removed. Thinking that he was prepared for what he would see. 

He was not

. . . 

Suddenly The world came back into sight for Aziraphale! And what was in front of him was almost as much of a disbelief as his journey there. 

“Aziraphale?!”

“Mmff” was all that the angel could get out, his mouth gagged. 

“AZIRAPHALE?!” Crowley’s face reflected a myriad of emotions at lightning speed settling on bewildering amusement “What in Hell’s name are you doing here?!” He croaked out as he laughed.

“Ggllmm mmm” Aziraphale looked just as dumbfounded but slightly more put off. As he tried to stand the shipmates thought otherwise and moved to put him back down into place. 

“It’s ok guys, he’s with me. . . Well not with me, we aren’t on the same side, obviously”

“Fggnnnmmh!”

“Hahaha, though I might prefer you like this. It’s much easier to hold a conversation with you when you aren’t talking” he smirked 

Aziraphale shot him daggers with his eyes

“Oh all right, you’re no fun” 

No sooner had Crowley untied the gag, then Aziraphale was bombarding him with questions. 

“Crowley what is the meaning of this? Why am I on your boat? Is this yours? Are you captaining a pirate ship!? When did you even get here?”

“Slow down angel,” Crowley sighed. “I heard about this fun from the Colonies of course, thought I’d saunter over and check it out myself. That was oh I don’t know, less than a decade ago. It’s so hard to keep track of time in such small increments. Of course I am the captain!” Crowley sneered. “And this is my ship The _Sea Serpent_. Not a boat. Do you call Crêpes pancakes?”

As he explained Crowley caressed the the inside hull with his fingertips lovingly

“This is a work of art angel, not just some scraps of wood I nailed together. I put everything into this ship. I will not have my masterpiece cheapened to the name of boat. This is the _Sea Serpent_! The most infamous pirate ship in the Caribbean!” 

“Oh my apologies! . . .”

A thought just occurred to Crowley, “Why are you here? Last we talked you were helping London recover from that fire.”

“Oh yes, that gastly fire! St. Paul’s Cathedral was so beautiful.” Aziraphale reminisced, “It’s taken quite a lot to recover but things seem to be back on track and they’ve rebuilt much of the city already! I can’t wait to show you, it’s a brand new London” he beamed. 

The demon made a harrumph noise. He didn’t want to go back to dreary Ol’ London. He rather liked the tropical climate of this region. 

“I was sent here on assignment. It seems that evil was afoot so prominently in these parts they felt I was needed for some divine intervention - I can only assume _you_ . . .” 

“Me? Angel, you’ve got it all backward. I came down here after hearing about all the fun people we’re having with this piracy thing and thought I’d try it out myself. Not my fault that I took to it as a . . . dolphin to water.”

“Fish” Aziraphale supplied.

“Yep that’s the one! Fish to water.” 

“Well of course piracy suits you, it is a villainess profession!”

“I wouldn’t call it villainess. Yes there is looting and murder but humans are already doing those no matter where you go. I just wanted in on the fun. And profession doesn’t seem like the right title for this. It’s closer to a lifestyle. A decadent fun lifestyle.” the demon smirked. 

“Well I’ll be leaving you to your decadence and fun. Some of us have work to do” tutted the angel.

“It’s not my fault my work is more fun than yours!”

“Yes well if obeying the Almighty were a bit more fun I suppose there would be less people going to your side. Less of a need for me.” 

Aziraphale started toward the door separating them from the outside world. Crowley countered the angel’s movements and slinked over next to the door, draping himself along a stubby banister.

“Well that’s one way of looking at it. Come on angel, what’s the rush? I just stocked up on some Cabernet Sauvignon.”

“Oh really!?” That piqued Azirapahle’s interest. “I’ve had to miracle my wine, from rum of all things, since I got here! It’s tempting . . . but that is what you do isn’t it?” Stepping closer to the door, and also conveniently Crowley. 

Crowley leaned in almost pinning Azirapahle to the wall, “I am the best” he hissed through his grinning teeth. 

  
  


“Where is your sense of adventure angel? You read all these books about explorers and adventures, fantasy. You could have one for yourself right here”

They were on their fifth bottle of Cab. Crowley had convinced Aziraphale to stay onboard a bit longer so as not to cause a mutiny over letting a Royal Naval officer just waltz away from his bonds as their new hostage. Crowley had thought it was a fair play to take on a high ranking official to use as a bargaining chip in case they came upon trouble trying to leave Nassau. All that was out the window now that, out of all the British ponces, his crew just had to pick the one who happened to be an actual angel.

“Come and sail with me! Have an adventure,then you can go back to your books and that stuffy life in London.” 

Aziraphale hiccuped, “While yes it seems very nice but well I always have work to do.”

“And what work is so consuming you can’t take some time to Enjoy this paradise?”

“I have to keep thwarting you! I can’t just abandon my post Crowley I have an assignment”

“Yes which is to thwart me how better to do that than right here?”

“My assignment is to help the humans get a handle on this piracy issue in the area and help restore order”

“And you think the best way to go about thwarting me is to whisper in some fat governor’s ear who is just as corrupt as any damned soul?”

“The ends justify the means Crowley of course that’s not the best but I am doing the best with what is given”

“And I am giving you another option. Wouldn’t another way be to actually combat it on the front lines? It’ll be just like old times! Instead of influencing the masses from afar we go toe to toe with each person.”

“Battling for souls One by one? Oh Crowley we haven’t done that in millennia.”

“Yes and weren’t those fun times?”

“They were at least entertaining especially seeing you bested” Aziraphale teased, showing a wicked smirk that shouldn’t be allowed on an angel’s face. 

“Well more often than not I was doing the besting” Crowley goated.

The smirk started to leave the angel face, “I don’t know Crowley, this is quite dangerous. Us being in such close proximity to each other, what if they check in? I know we have an arrangement but this is a completely different agreement we are taking on” 

“What you’re agreeing to Is the very purpose for which we are fighting for!” Crowley didn’t exactly know why he was fighting so fervently for this, but he wasn’t one to self analyze. 

“One on one blessing and tempting- that’s how it was done for ages. Most demons still are used to that antiquated system! I don’t think they’ll ever be persuaded to look at the big picture.” 

“Crowley all it takes is. . .” 

“Angel, if you are shirking my invitation, fine!” Crowley tried a different tactic. “You can go back to your boring old hovel in London. Reading about others’ exploits instead of experiencing them.” 

Crowley’s words had turned acid. Aziraphale thought in that silence why he was pushing this so hard. Then he realized. Crowley must be lonely! He must miss Aziraphale but heaven forbid he come out and say it - quite un-demonlike. He himself had been getting quite used to seeing the demon on a semi-regular basis and London had felt a little lonely without Crowley there to stir up some excitement.  
  


Crowley was just berating himself for trying too hard and making him look like fool in front of the opposition when he heard the angel say something.   
  


“Hm? I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes “I said, I’m coming around to this idea of this soul tete-a-tete. What are the terms of this new arrangement?”

Crowley could hardly contain his nonchalant composer. By the Devil this might actually happen! 

“The new arrangement would be you have free reign to persuade anyone on the ship ah except for Rouse! He’s been my first mate for quite some time and I’ve grown fond of him. He’s loyal so I doubt you’d persuade him away from the Serpent but still I don’t want you taking up all of his time. In fact most of my crewmen are quite loyal so you’ll have your work cut out for you”

“No matter! It will make the victory that much sweeter. And for how long?”

“Oh I don’t know until you want to leave I guess. Until you become so frustrated that no one is willing to give up this kind of freedom for some pious lifestyle that you give up!”

“Or perhaps I convince everyone of your loyal Buccaneers and you have no one to help you man ship” Aziraphale chuckled. 

“No matter, I’ll just stop at the next port and gain a new crew.”

“Then I will just have to thwart you until every last pirate has changed his ways and there is no one else to help you.”

“Well then your assignment would then be truly accomplished”

“Ah! You’re right” Aziraphale beamed! “It is a deal then”

As Crowley uncorked yet another bottle of the precious wine he was undoubtedly racing through he agreed, poured them a new glass and toasted to this new arrangement. 


	2. 1717 four months into the new arrangement

The Sea Serpent hadn’t even made it into open waters before Aziraphale started getting violently ill. Currently he was draped over the side of the starboard bow heaving air since he had already spilled any food contents that were in his corporeal form. He felt a hand clap him on the back. Excruciatingly embarrassed, the angel tried to cover his mouth with his kerchief and crumpled to the deck’s floor. He can’t let Crowley see him in this state - he will never let the angel live it down!

“Angel, what’s gotten into you?” Crowley jested halfheartedly, there was concern lying just underneath the bemused tone.”It’s like you’ve never been out on the sea, and we aren’t even really out there yet!” 

“I haven’t” Aziraphale was able to squeak out, not trusting his body to allow anymore of a response. 

Crowley’s eyebrows shot up, “You WHAT?!” 

Aziraphale tried to talk but started to dry heave and clamped his mouth shut in response. 

“Are you telling me that you - who are wearing not only a Royal Navy uniform, but a Commodore’s rank no less - have not actually been on the sea before?!” 

The rumpled angel glared at him through bloodshot eyes “Never been on a boat before.” 

“Ship Aziraphale, this,” putting a loving hand on the decks banister stroking it like a favorite pet “is a ship NOT a boat. So you haven’t stepped foot on a sea vessel, though you are impersonating a high ranking naval official and . . . how in hellfire did you get all the way to the Caribbean if not by ship? Fly?” knowing full well that could be a genuine answer. 

Aziraphale made the hand gesture he makes when miracling as a form of answer. 

“You miracled?! That’s one bloody waste of a big miracle. And upstairs had nothing to say about you just popping halfway across the world? Did sailing across to the New World sound that torturous?”

The rumpled angel pouted. He glared up at the demon, happy for the anger and frustration to take his mind away from the boat . . er ship, bobbing up and down causing his equilibrium to never find ground. “Upstairs told me I was urgently needed here. It seems that evil was afoot so prominently in these parts they were not opposed to me using any means necessary. I can only assume _you_ . . .” he caught himself with his hand at his mouth and scrambled up the desk siding to once again heaved over the side. “Why . . is this . . . happening?” heaving in between. 

Crowley couldn’t help but laugh at the preposterousness of what the angel had gotten himself into. “Sea sick! An angel! How is that even possible!” It wasn’t a question- more like a taunt. He saw his angel (NO wait, friend? Can’t have that one either,. Acquaintance? A bit more than that. Associate? Yes let’s go with that one) in such a state he took pity on him. He touched a soothing hand to Aziraphale’s back and let relief radiate from his touch, snaking around his body.

“God in heaven thank you.”

“No, not thank you - you cannot thank me! I am doing this purely for selfish reasons. I do not want to have to turn around and go back to shore to drop off your sorry state back on land.”

“By all means I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” Oh yes Aziraphale knew how to play this game. 

In the months that followed Crowley watched as Aziraphale tried to talk his crew into signing off on a new moral equilibrium. Except he could forget about the 'into' for a moment since the angel was having a hard enough time talking to them at all! The men were very put off as it was that their captain had let a 'Royal Official' onto the Serpent, now having said enemy try and engage them in lighthearted banter was causing quite a ruckus. Though he could tell many of them questioned this move, non were keen to bring this up to the captain forthright, for good reason too. Tales of men getting thrown overboard for mutinous talk had cultivated a very loyal crew.

When the day came that Rouse asked his reasoning behind letting their so called hostage roam free on the ship - even dine better than the crew - the Captain just said

"When you've known someone for as long as I have, sides, though they are present, become muted. I have known Aziraphale for an excruciatingly long time, and that will always take precedence over the clothes he dons. Nothing is black nor white in this world Rouse. If we don't treat those we are acquainted with respectfully, well then, we are truly the worst beasts of all."

Crowley knew full well that his statement would disseminate among the ranks and hopefully lead to the crew at least being cordially to the angel. It worked, in a way. They stopped leering at him with murderous intent. He was now the fly buzzing annoyingly around at mealtime, trying to sneak into their conversations only to be shewed away or worse - completely ignored! Aziraphale was a patient angel but this was becoming a bit discouraging if you asked him (which no one did). He did enjoy conversing and debating with Crowley. It was during one of these afternoon day drinking sessions that lubricated the Angel enough to speak up bout his despondency.

"No one will talk to me!"

"Of course not angel you still have your Commodore costume on." 

"It’s not a cost-"

"Whatever you want to call it - if you want to get anywhere I was suggest a change of wardrobe" 

"Wha! Bu. . I find it quite dashing! It brings out the color in my eyes."

"While I might agree, you’re not going to get anywhere looking like that"

"Crowley I have standards!"

"Fine make my job easier it’s just a suggestion only trying to help . . . I mean I’m not . . . why would I help, ridiculous!" The demon blustered

"Indeed. And what if I do get somewhere wearing this. Would you like to make another wager?"

"In for a penny, in for a pound. Are you sure that another wager is what you want? So far, I see no break in my winning streak anytime soon."

"Winning streak?! You haven't done anything!"

"Ah, see that's the rub angel, I don't have to 'win' so long as you lose. So, before you go off on another high stakes bet, take a good look at the house, because I clearly have the advantage."

"I have faith that goodness will prevail and the crew will come around to my presence shortly."

"Fine if you can convince anyone of my men to strike up a noble life while frolicking around posing as a Commodore I will take two assignments of your choosing" 

"That I deem? That no matter what they are?" He had that puckish glint in his eyes

"Well you know within reason"

"Oh you cannot go back now Crowley! Whatever I deem, or are you scared that I might actually do it? Shouldn’t be scared if l you’re so confident it won’t happen!" Aziraphale was practically glowing with mirth 

"The angel was actually goating him into it, the bastard! Oh this was too fun, Crowley thought."

“Don’t mistake my confidence for stupidity, angel.”

“Dear, Don’t you trust me?”

“I don’t trust anyone angel”

“But . . . but, it’s me! You know I wouldn’t do anything to put you in harm's way - I'm an angel!”

“Nothing against you. Demon’s aren’t the trusting type - especially to angels”

“Oh well, semantics and all that. I trusted you when I agreed to stay on your ship. I’ve trusted you countless times during the Arrangement and you I for that matter!

“I’ve always thought of it as tempting you into shirking your duties.”

“What about those times? That was also you doing good in the world!”

“But I was doing good for selfish reasons! So are those still good deeds if I was doing them as a way of tempting you to also do my bad deeds at times?”

“Ha! You said so yourself back in England a few hundred years ago, ‘we are just cancelling each other out”, therefore you are not doing good deeds in the name of bad and I the opposite because even so neither side really minds as long as it gets done so we are not being good or evil we are . . just . . being . . neutral?” 

They both looked at each other then. Aziraphale didn’t know if he just won an argument or talked himself into a corner. Crowley watched the angel’s face as he grappled with the confusing mess he talked himself into. Oh how he loved to get this one so worked up he couldn’t tell right from wrong.

The demon burst into a hearty laugh, which relieved Aziraphale from his concerned confusion and he joined in how silly this talk was anyway. 

“So does this mean you are actually backing down from a wager?”

“I said nothing of the sort,of course I'll take your wager. I was just playing devil's advocate.”

“Is that your new official title now?” The angel jested. Crowley shot him an ‘oh you think you’re so clever’ look. Aziraphale just refilled his glass and gave the most shit eating grin. 

Holding up his glass as if in triumph, Aziraphale gestured a cheers to Crowley and yet again another arrangement was made - he was only slightly concerned that he had lost track of just how many they had now. 

Hours later, an inebriated angel stumbled up to the deck for some fresh air. It was night by then so the breeze was a cool refreshing hit to Aziraphale's face. He gazed softly at the world he now found himself in. It was as if they were sailing in the sky among the clouds. The water was so calm. The pristine reflection produced an endless starry sky all around the Serpent. They were sailing among the stars! It was one of the most singular resplendent visions during his time on Earth. A memory he will still well up with tears recalling hundreds of years later. Caught up in the magnificence, the angel was just starting to get misty eyed when the moment was abruptly intruded by a young crew member stumbling out from below deck. Startling the angel out of his perfect moment, the scallywag staggered into a rope pile and promptly topped over landing on his face. Aziraphale rushed over to his aide. The young fellow couldn't be more than 24 but the sun and drink aged the boy well above his years.

 _That broken tooth bleeding profusely isn't going to help either,_ Aziraphale thought.

He performed a quick miracle repairing his teeth anew (if not a bit better than before the fall). 

"My dear fellow, are you alright?"

The crewman crumpled on the port bow "NO way in HELL am I alright! I've lost everything - my home, my wife, my unborn child, and now my teeth!" he looked up at the angel pleadingly from behind bloodshot eyes. "I'm the biggest deadbeat in the history of deadbeats!"

"Oh now, I don;t know about that. I have been all over the globe and I am sure there are bigger-"

"I have hurt everyone I know with drink! I've gambled away my land. Bollocksed up my marriage countless times, the last time bad enough I sure I can never win her back. And she wrote me that we was gonna have a babe but that she don't want me in their lives because I'll just keep getting pissed and hurting them. Is that big enough for you?!"

"Well . . . you know, the fact that you can acknowledge your faults is a jolly good step." Aziraphale tried to sooth the drunk sailor. 

"You really think so? 

"Why yes! There are many a fool that stay fools for they cannot look upon themselves in a critical light."

"So it's good that I think I am not worthy of living anymore?"

"OH Gracious no! You deserve to be alive! I am saying that because you know and acknowledge you sins and vices, you can actually do something about them. Now let me take a look at your teeth?"

He obliged, "Now, I dabble in healing and I don't see anything that will be permanently damaged."

"REALLY Commodore?!" 

"O Please call me Aziraphale. Now you've told me about your struggles with drink, but I don't know your name"

"OH SO SORRY Commodore . . .I mean Assear-afell, it's Stephen."

"It's pronounced Azira - oh lets not bother," the angel rolled his eyes, "Now why don't we chat for a bit and see if there aren't some actionable steps you may take to better your situation, aye?"

And just like that, Aziraphale found his first crewman to take under his wing.


End file.
